Fated Time
by Pilla Jeffrey
Summary: As a demonic realm opens, a new force must be found to stop it. But before that force is found, the Scoobies must deal with the future, as well as the past.
1. Heaven and Hell

TITLE:  Fated Time  
AUTHOR: Pilla Jeffrey  
EMAIL: mah219@yahoo.com   
CATEGORY: Missing Scene/Epilogue, Romance, Action/Adventure   
PAIRING: Willow/Xander  
SPOILERS: Two To Go; Grave; Hell's Bells; Becoming, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered; Lover's Walk; The Wish; More  
SEASON / SEQUEL: 6  
RATING: PG-13   
CONTENT WARNINGS: language, violence   
SUMMARY: Post Grave.  As a demonic realm opens, a new force must be found to stop it.  But before that force is found, the Scoobies must deal with the future, as well as the past.  
STATUS: Work In Progress   
ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net, anywhere else, ask.  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  All original characters and ideas are mine, though, so don't archive without my permission!   
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Season One and Two DVDs, I've become a total Buffy addict.  Follow this trip through my deranged mind and enjoy the ride!  This is dedicated to my ultimate Buffy pals, Arianrhod and Ali.  Special dedication to my friend Mary Chasez-Timberlake because, yes, there is Britney in Buffy!

**Chapter One: Heaven and Hell**

            She'd laid dormant for a long time, not wanting to express her. . . . _uniqueness.  It was hard to pretend to be normal, like she was the average teenager, but somehow she managed.  She managed to live with lies.  She managed to scare away any friends, any possible boyfriends.  She managed to different and special and she hated it.  She didn't want to embrace her new life, but the farther she ran away, the closer it came.  Someday, she'd have to accept it, but that day wasn't __today.  And until that day arrived, she'd live the façade that existed for those who knew her, while hiding the demons that ruled her real life.  She was dependent on that perfect fantasy and with it, she knew she could avoid destiny's call just one more time._

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            The room was hot, but summer was usually that way.  The familiar chant of concentration and heavy breathing, along with the thud of foot meeting cushion calmed her somehow.  It was like finding the old security of what was done didn't matter because someone was always there to pick up the pieces and keep confidence going strong.  Somehow the training was not a bore, but a worthwhile experience.  Losing what you had only proved it to be more dear.

            Morning training was done and Buffy Summers wiped the sweat off her face and neck with a towel.  She discarded the towel and approached the steady Watcher.  "Giles, I'm really glad you've decided to stay, even for a little while."  She handed him a glass of water once he put down the kicking cushion.  "I've missed you so much."

            "I've missed you, too, Buffy."  He smiled, and the deep brown eyes glowed with their old sincerity.  "You definitely haven't lost any of your skill since I last saw you."

            She cocked her head with youthful spunk.  "Hey, I'm the slayer, I'm always in great shape."  Buffy bit her lip.  "But that doesn't mean I don't need you, Giles.  We all need you.  Life has been more hellish than usual on the Hellmouth and we've all fallen apart.  You're the glue that binds, Giles.  You're the one who knows best, makes everything right.  Everything isn't right when you're not here."

            "I wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, Buffy.  But in this last year, you've grown up and matured much faster than I've seen you do before.  You've had to call the shots, make the decisions, and done a damn good job at it.  I'm proud of you, Buffy."

            A deep crimson flushed in her cheeks.  "Aw, shucks, and I don't have any video evidence."  She had to keep herself from crying as Giles pulled her into a hug.  For a spilt second, they were no longer Watcher and Slayer, they were long-lost friends.  And, truthfully, that's the way it had always been and forever would be.

            As she pulled out of the hug, Buffy hurriedly flicked away the threatening tears forming in her eyes.  "So, how's Will?"

            Giles frowned.  "I've been working with her so she can learn to control her magic, but it hasn't been working that well.  She still is in shock, which isn't surprising considering what's happened to her.  Xander's been trying to get through to her, but hasn't had much success."

            "You think it would be alright if I saw her?  I think I might be able to help."  Buffy smiled earnestly.  Willow was her best friend and had always gotten her out of any of the scrapes a vampire slayer could get themselves into, whether it be beating demons or passing history, and Buffy was eager to return the favor and help her through this troubled time.

            "Of course, Buffy."  He nodded.

            "Thanks, Giles."  She gave him a slight smile and left.

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            It had been breached.  In the thousands of years he'd live, it'd never been breached, and now. . . His hand curled, claws scrapping lightly together.

            It had been easy.  The idiot had hungered for power, and as he feed her, the breach grew larger.  Even after she collapsed, the dimensional rift had almost become big enough for him to get through.  He just needed to widen it a bit further and it would be soon that he could take over the mortal plane and satiate his thirst for flesh.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            He didn't know how long he'd held her, only that he wouldn't let go for a long time.  Even still, he wasn't sure he'd actually let go, except for the fact that he was alone in his bedroom watching a lame episode of _Days of Our Lives and the jasmine scent of her hair no longer clogged his nostrils.  And still, he could feel her in his arms while he stroked her hair as she cried desolately._

            Giles had relieved him of watching her late last night and he'd stayed awake by the door of Giles' rented apartment, listening to her tortured screams of anguish.  He hadn't even known he'd fallen asleep until Giles woke him several hours later and sent him home for some proper sleep.  The thing was, he couldn't sleep, not with his best friend hurting like that.  They'd known each other so long that, in some crazy way, they were linked; when she was in pain, he was.  He needed to help her to help himself.

            A brief knock sounded on his door.  "Xander? Can I come in?"  Anya's sweet, naïve voice had a softer edge to it then what he was used to recently.

            "Yeah."  He clicked off the television as the blonde vengeance demon came into his room hesitantly.  She looked around, as if trying to decide what to say.

            She decided.  "Are you okay?"

            Xander sighed.  "I've been better."

Anya blinked, then sat down on Xander's bed, enveloping him in a hug as she wept softly.  She hit him angrily with her shaky fists, causing Xander's wounds from the Willow's attack to sting.  "Why do you always have to be so brave?"

            "What?!"  Xander pulled away from her quickly, giving her a questioning gaze.

            She sniffled.  "I heard what happened.  You stopped evil, rampaging Willow from destroying the world.  You could have gotten yourself killed!"

            "It's not like you'd care.  You've been wishing I'd be dead for a while now," Xander snapped.  He instantly regretted it when she looked away, ashamed.  "Anya, I'm sorry.  It's just that, you know, with Willow—"

            "—no, you don't have to apologize.  I've been a real bitch to you."  Her bottom lip quivered as she continued, meekly, "I care about you, Xander.  Now, I can't forgive for leaving me at the altar"—she half-smiled sincerely—"but I want to start over.  With you."  Her grin widened.  "How do you feel about Mexican?"

            "Love it."  Xander watched her eyes dance with glee.  Anya hugged him again, and he held her in his embrace.  This is what he had wanted for so long, but somehow it felt empty, incomplete.  He pushed those notions out of his head and pulled Anya closer, kissing her forehead.  They were meant to be and this time they were going to make it.  He wasn't going to mess up again.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            The door creaked.  A strangled crying echoed softly in the darkness.  Buffy stopped in the doorway, frozen.  The powerful sobs overwhelmed her.  Willow never cried this violently, this passionately sorrowful.  The slayer's voice caught in her throat, her eyes tearing up again.  She had never known Willow to be in so much pain.  Taking a deep breath, she closed the door, letting the blackness overwhelm her.

            "Who is it?"  Willow's voice was weak.

            Buffy took a hesitant step, guiding herself around the furniture by the small, flickering light emanating from a short candle.  "Will, it's me."

            "Buffy?"  Willow got up from the floor, wiping her tears fervently from her dark eyes.  Her face was shadowed, so Buffy took another step closer to her friend.

            "Oh my god," the blonde gasped.  The candle flickered over the redhead's face eerily, revealing tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes framed by limp, ragged hair.  Willow broke down again and collapsed on her bed, her weeping growing stronger and all-consuming.  Buffy choked again.  She didn't know what to do, what to say.  She was utterly and completely useless.  Then again, sometimes the most useless had a purpose.  Buffy sat down on the bed, arms outstretched.  "Will, come here."

            And suddenly the two friends were in a desperate hug, both falling apart, but keeping each other together.  Their faces and shirts wet with hot tears, Willow buried her head in Buffy's shoulder.  "I miss her."  The witch sniffled.  "I miss how everything used to be.  I wish I could take it all back and everything would be good again."

            Buffy nodded, licking her salty lips.  "So do I," she murmured. "So do I."

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            Sunshine.  Such a glorious thing.  The hot  rays beating down on his flesh, burning it, the heat sizzling on his skin.  He'd been burned harshly over the years and now, peace.  Warmth, not flaming.  Light, not blinding.  And it felt wickedly good.

            Walking slowly down the street, his lips fell into their usual sardonic smirk.  "Hello, Sunnydale," he taunted in his English drawl.  "Didya miss me?"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "So, how's it been?  Are you okay?"  Buffy sat across from Willow at the foot of the bed.  The normalcy was forced, but comforting.

            Willow nodded, inhaling slowly.  "Yeah, I've been fine.  It's been hard, getting over Tara and, God, hurting you all.  I'm so sorry for what I did.  I almost killed Giles and I-I killed. . . . I killed—"

            "Shh, Will, it's alright," Buffy patted her arm lightly.  "What have you been doing?"

            "Giles is trying to teach me to control my magic, but it hasn't been working. I'm a hopeless addict.  I can still feel the power rushing trough my veins," Willow breathed, closing her eyes in remembrance.  "I was drunk on this insane amount of power that I couldn't control, but I didn't care.  I just wanted to get away from here, from all my troubles.  And-and Buffy, I know what I did was wrong, but there's still a lot of that dark power in me.  I've killed and I can do it again.  If Giles hadn't given me that dose of pure magic, I would have killed Xander.  The funny thing is, I don't feel any guilt.  That's what scares me.  The fact that I've become so heartless.  Xander is my best friend and I almost killed him.  He kept saying he loved me over and over and I almost killed him."

            Buffy gave her a sad smile.  "We all love you, Willow.  And, no matter what, we always will.  I hope you know that."

            "I-I do."  Willow stumbled on the words, as if she was trying to convince herself of their friendship.  "But everything is so terrible.  I've lost Tara and I don't want to lose you guys too.  I don't think I'd be able to keep this up if you weren't with me."

             "We'll always be here for you." Buffy's smile strengthened, broadly spreading across her face.  "Always and forever."

            Willow looked down, letting the silence envelop her.  "I know," she finally whispered.  She looked up, holding Buffy's gaze.  "And thank you, for everything."

            "It wasn't me, Will.  You had the strength to fight inside you and you won on your own.  We just helped the process along."

            Willow nodded, but felt sorry for Buffy.  Did the Slayer know how wrong she was?  There was still blood on Willow's hands.  She felt the darkness, forever rising, just waiting to come out.  And Willow knew that she wasn't strong enough to fight it forever.  Eventually, she would lose.  By then there'd be no hope for the sunrise.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"You know, if you'd just stay outta this town, I wouldn't have to kill you."  She lifted her makeshift stake into the air and stabbed the vampire in the heart, the sickening crunch of bone resonating in her ears.  The dust burst and she flipped her long hair over her shoulder.  "Then again, I'd probably kill you anyway."

            She kicked the next one, dodging his weak attempts at trying to hit her.  "For the record, this"—she slammed her fist into his face—"is a real punch.  And this"—she again lifted her stake—"is really going to kill you."  Dust flew into her face.  That was one thing she hated about this job—the massive amount of money spent on conditioner.

            One by one, she staked all the vampires, a tedious job at most.  Fighting got rather dull at times.  She almost wished she was cleaning the house or something like that.  Of course, the hardest part was covering her tracks and making sure no one knew she was the one doing the slaying.  Making sure no one knew there were slayings.

            She took a deep breath as her stake stabbed the last vampire.  Adjusting her denim coat, she wiped the dust from her flared jeans.  Another great night done.  Now there was only tomorrow and forever after.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            _"What would it take for you to just leave with me?  Not trying to sound conceited, but you and me were meant to be.  You're a sexy guy, I'm a nice girl.  Let's turn this dance floor into our own little nasty world."_

            Like some deranged cat on narcotics, Dawn danced around the living room, listening to the loud speakers.  It was true what they said. Dancing for girls consisted of two very simple things: throwing their long hair around and shaking their hips.

            "Dawn, will you turn that racket off?!"  Buffy could barely hear herself over the music and, by the way Dawn was shaking her butt, neither did she.  Buffy gritted her teeth and stomped to the stereo system, turning off the immature giggle of Britney Spears.

            Dawn turned to her, outraged.  "Hey! That was _my music!"_

            "That slut panting is not music, it's her in bed with that Justin Timberpond or whatever his name is."

            "Timber_lake, not Timberpond.  That just shows how much you know."  Dawn pouted indignantly.  "She's not a slut.  She's a firm Christian, donated one dollar from each ticket sold for her concert to help with 9/11, and she's sworn off sex until she's married."_

            Buffy nodded sarcastically.  "Sure, whatever you say.  But with those clothes and that dancing, I am well within my right to call her a slut.  She gives us blondes a bad name."

            "Who's the blonde slut?"  Buffy jumped when she heard the door open, forgetting that Xander had a key.  He came over, followed by Anya, and gave the two sisters a strange look.  Buffy couldn't help but noticed a renewed vigor in their stride and their affectionate holding of each others' hands.  Xander and Anya sat down next to each other on the couch, oddly close.  There was something going on and Buffy hated being out of the loop.

            Rolling her eyes, she filled him in.  "Britney Spears."

            Xander gave it some thought and came up with a conclusion.  "She's not a slut, she's a very attractive woman who has every right to show off her perfect, tanned, smooth—"

            "Xander!"  Anya slapped him, bringing the hormone-driven man out of his dream world.  He smiled at her innocently with a _"Who, me?" look on his face.  Giggling, Anya kissed his cheek._

            "And anyway, she's not blonde.  She's a brunette.  She just colors her hair," Dawn, firmly appointed as Britney's defender, stated.

            "Fine!  Britney is a moral slut who has every right to expose her body, providing her insane male stalkers everywhere," Buffy finalized, ending the stupid argument.  "Who's missing?"

            Anya looked around.  "Just Giles, I suppose."

            "I'm here," the British voice called from the kitchen.  The watcher came into view, his customary mug of tea and latest mystical volume taking up his hands.

"So, all parties of the Scooby Gang present and accounted for."  Xander paused sadly.  "Well, except. . ."

There was an awkward silence.  While the slayerettes did lose and gain people along the way, they had just lost three members in the course of a few weeks.  One to death, one to vengeance, and one to god knows where.  Their absence was felt, like a heavy cloud, an emptiness that lived hidden behind unseen barriers trying to forget.

            "Yes, well, that might not be our biggest problem."  Giles sipped his herbal tea.  "It seems that when Willow became. . . .Satanic, she opened portals to our world for several evil powers."

            Buffy caught Dawn sneaking to the stereo.  Giving her a threatening glare, the younger sister recoiled and came back to the table.  Turning her attention back to Giles, she asked in her confident demeanor, "So, is this a research deal, or can I just go out and kick some demon ass?"

            "Unfortunately, neither.  I'm not exactly sure what the imbalance of evil versus good did and what demons have been unleashed onto our world.  All I know is that we are in grave danger."  He looked at Buffy.  "Willow unleashed some of the darkest and oldest magicks that exist.  Naturally these demons will be of a different class and variety than what we are used to, from a different plane altogether.  Do not put too much confidence in your abilities, Buffy.  The last thing we need right now is an overconfident and dead slayer."

            "Nice visual, Giles."  The blonde tossed her hair over her shoulder, straightening.  "I'm not being overconfident.  But what I don't understand is if you are so worried about this and don't believe in me, how am I supposed to even try to defeat what's coming?"

            "I-I do believe in you Buffy, but this is completely different from anything you've ever experienced before.  I'm working on getting help, but if it doesn't pull thorough, we need to be prepared."  Giles took off his steam-fogged glasses and wiped them with his handkerchief.  "Buffy, we—"

            The first few notes of "Ode to Joy" sounded and Giles excused himself to the kitchen to answer his cell phone, leaving the four friends looking at each other incredulous.  Xander broke the silence.  "I hate when he does that, freaking us out with the latest and greatest monster."  He put his arm around Anya's shoulders.  "Who's up for Chinese?"

            "Me!"  Dawn pulled her jacket off the counter.

            Buffy threw her arms up in the air.  "Xander!  Did you even _hear Giles?  Big, evil monsters, prepare?"_

            "Come on, Buff.  You are the slayer.  We are the slayerettes.  You slay, we eat Chinese.  Anyway, there's nothing we can do now.  You heard Giles.  He's coming up with a plan.  What's the harm in a little egg foo young?"

            Sighing, Buffy gave in.  "Fine. Just let me ask Giles if we can go and what he wants."

            Xander nodded, and, turning to Anya, said, "So, chow mein, or no chow mein.  That is the question!"

            "Xander, you are such an idiot," Dawn chided, shaking her head.  "Everyone loves chow mein."

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            _"We are running out of time."_

            "Since I've come back, I have yet to find her."  He readjusted the phone and hushed his voice.  "Sunnydale is where she will be drawn to.  I don't know what's taking so long.  Do you have any idea who she is?"

            _"We never know, Rupert.  All we know is that we need to find her."_

            He breathed out slowly, flipping absentmindedly through _Caro__ Morior.  "I'll keep looking."_

            _"Good.  If we don't find her, you know what kind of trouble we're in."_

            "I'll find her."  It was more of a weak hope than a promise.  He'd been searching a year, and she hadn't turned up.  This had never been a problem before, but Rupert Giles usually got the difficult job.  Frustrated, he slammed the phone into its cradle.

            "Find who?"

            Giles dropped the book and turned around abruptly, seeing Buffy standing in the doorway, head cocked, arms crossed, and brown eyes boring into his, giving him a questioning look.

            "N-no one, Buffy. This doesn't concern you."  Giles picked up the tattered volume and placed it on the counter.

            She walked closer to him with her slayer grace and intimidation, her eyes never leaving his.  "Oh yes it does.  When it involves you, it automatically concerns me."  Buffy paused, her stiff posture unwavering.  "Tell me, Giles.  Tell me."

Giles held her gaze, his seriousness frightening Buffy slightly. He lifted his head, taking off his glasses.  Clearing his throat, he didn't trust his voice as he spoke.   "The third slayer."


	2. Confessions

**Chapter Two:  Confessions**

            "The _what?"_

            Giles coughed.  "The-the third slayer."

            Buffy shook her head and cried out, "There's three of us?!  Since when?"

            "W-Well—"

            "Buffy!  Hello?  Anya and Dawn are already in the car.  I want my orange chicken!"  Xander popped in by the doorway, holding out her coat.  "Hong Kong Dragon's dim sum is almost over!"

            Buffy and Giles shot him a look, their tempered voices in unison: "Xander!"

            "Jeez, what did I do?"  Xander's indignant voice stung Buffy.  After everything that just happened, she had realized that she needed her friends more than ever.  She couldn't—wouldn't—lose another friend.

            Buffy gave him a sympathetic gaze.  "Xander, Giles and I need to talk.  Slayer stuff."  As she saw the sad, excluded fog rest over his eyes, she added, "Pick me up some spring rolls, okay?"

            "You got it!"  Xander smiled.  After handing Buffy her coat, he gave her a thumbs up and left.  Buffy laughed.

Giles continued when Buffy transferred her attention back to him.  "You remember last year when y-you died?"

            Buffy nodded.  "Uh, yeah," she said slowly.  All of a sudden, it clicked.  "Oh."

            "Yes, exactly.  When you died the first time, Kendra came.  When Kendra died, Faith came.  A-And you died, Buffy.  There should be a new slayer.  The problem is that Kendra and Faith appeared in a matter of months.  It's been over a year and this new slayer hasn't shown up."

            "Isn't it the Council's job to find the slayer?  I mean, don't they have, like, dozens of girls training for this?"

            Giles stuttered. "Um, y-yes.  But just because there are girls training to be the Slayer doesn't mean that these girls are the Chosen Ones.  Look at yourself.  You just popped out of nowhere."  Giles smiled.  "We've been searching and she's nowhere to be found.  It's like she doesn't exist."

            "Maybe she doesn't.  Maybe since I've died once, it's like, you know, a one time deal?"  The blonde slayer sounded a little more hopeful than she should have, considering all the evil butt that needed to be kicked out there.  But the thought of a new slayer. . . . After Faith, she didn't want to think about it.

Giles inclined his head in a hesitant nod.  "That's a possibility, considering there's never been a slayer to come back from the dead twice before.  The only problem with that theory is several unexplained slayings."

"Unexplained slayings?"

"There's been a rumor in the demon world surrounding several kills in Sunnydale that didn't involve you, but another girl."  He shook his head.  "That would mean the slayer is here, perhaps right under our noses.  How come we haven't found her?"

            "Maybe she doesn't want to be found."

            "What do you mean?  The natural instinct of every slayer is to find her watcher and to destroy evil."  He rubbed his temples.  "This doesn't make any sense."

            "Come on, Giles.  You know all about trying to avoid your destiny.  She's just scared.  She doesn't want to be different.  For a teenager nowadays, fitting in is everything.  Trust the girl who went to high school with this talent.  All that kept me sane was pretending it didn't exist."

            The watcher sighed.  "So we've got a reluctant slayer on our hands."

            "Yup."  Buffy nodded.

            "Oh god.  It's you all over again."  He hid a smile as she hit him playfully on the arm.

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            Breathing deeply, she relaxed into the instructed upright position.  Giles had told her that meditation would help her gain control and help her get over the pain and guilt.  It was worth a shot.

            Willow picked up the lighter and lit the randomly placed aromatherapy candles.  She closed her eyes.  The scent of vanilla and spice overwhelmed her.  The pattern of her breath calmed her as she fell into a trance.  She wasn't in some old apartment room anymore.  She was in a white place, filled with mists and faint classical music serenading her into a deep state of tranquil serenity. Everything that had happened in the past few days was forgotten, erased from her mind.  There was peace.

            Beneath her, surrounding her ankles, was a bubbling golden liquid.  It was violently fizzing, spurting up.  The liquid fell on her, overwhelming her with its tantalizing seduction.  She could feel a great sense of powerful pleasure.  More.  She wanted more.

            The liquid splashed up, covering her.  Satisfaction.  She knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.  Suddenly, the liquid became hot and her body began searing in pain, agony overtaking the pleasure.  Pale skin now ran red with blood.  She needed to get out of it.  She was going to kill herself if she stayed in the golden mystery any longer.  Willow wanted tried to escape, but couldn't.  She needed help.  "Xander!  Buffy! Giles!"

            No sooner than had she shrieked did the liquid begin to rise. First to her knees, then to her waist, then surrounding her neck.  She was about to be engulfed.  The aching torture, the persistent bliss, licked at her ears, then, laughing in a harsh voice, overcame her.  Willow Rosenberg was drowning.

            Screams.  Tormented screams.  The voices of her victims.  Willow began choking, falling farther down into the golden liquid.  Suddenly something grabbed her, held her with vicious claws from descending into the pit of mercilessness.  It spoke roughly into her ear, it's hissing, deep voice shocking her out of the meditation's unreality.  "Come Freedom.  Come help us."

            The last thing she saw was the hazy flicker of the candles as they fell off the bed as she collapsed.  Then the revengeful screams took her once more.

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            "So, what was up with Buffy and Giles?"  Dawn asked between sipping her tea and pouring another spoonful of Mongolian beef onto her plate.  She had eaten twice as much as Anya and Xander combined._  Guess that's what they mean by those growing teen years, Xander mused half-heartedly._

            "Yeah, what was with that, Xander?  Why didn't they come with us?  Giles loves pointing out the cultural inaccuracies in the decorations."  Anya gave him a pointed look.

            "Actually, I don't know," he responded, puzzled.  They both had been on edge.  His brow furrowed in thought for a moment, then he gave up and went back to his rice.  The fact that he didn't know what was troubling his friend unnerved him a bit, but he could ask her after dim sum.  After all, he wasn't showing up without her spring rolls.

            Anya fumbled with her chopsticks. "Ugh!  What is so hard about moving two pieces of wood simultaneously?"  Xander smiled and, his hand over her's, instructed her in the art of eating with "two pieces of wood moving simultaneously".  Anya worked out the new technique and grinned when she lifted the shrimp up.

            "Never mind Buffy and Giles.  What's up with you two?  Are you back together?" Dawn, eternal matchmaker and hopeful romantic, inquired with her puckish charm.

            Xander looked at Anya as a blush crept slowly onto his suddenly hot cheeks.  Anya answered in her blunt, tactless tone, "I've given him another chance."

            Before Xander could let out his indignant "Hey!" Dawn sighed and gave them her full support.  "Good for you!  Both of you!"

            "Yeah," Xander proclaimed, putting his arm over her shoulder, "I've got the most beautiful, brilliant, talen—" His cheerful eyes clouded over as he doubled over, crying out in pain.

Dawn raced out of her seat to his side and Anya held him fearfully.  "Honey," Anya whispered, numb with shock, "Are you okay?  Alexander Harris! Answer me!"

"Xander!"  A warped, far away cry of desperation hit him.

"Willow," he choked out, panting weakly.  With that, he got up and ran out the door of the restaurant.  Not pausing for a second, Xander called over his shoulder, "Get Buffy's spring rolls!" and was gone.

Anya gazed at the door for a moment, then raised her hand.  "Waiter!  Two spring rolls, please!"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            He ran.  He ran like there was no tomorrow.  And without his best bud Willow, there wouldn't be one.

            Skidding into the apartment complex's hallway, he saw Buffy and Giles careening toward him from the opposite end of the corridor.  "Buff!" he panted out, grabbing her wrists when he reached her.  "What happened to Will?"

            "We're about to find out."  She freed herself from Xander's worried grip and, in typical slayer fashion, kicked down the door.  A billow of smoke rushed out of the room as Buffy charged in.  The flames roared, heat smothering her.  "Oh my god."  She spotted a limp form sprawled half on the floor, half on the bed.  "Willow!"

            The witch laid unresponsive to the fire enveloping her room.  For all Buffy knew, her friend was dead.  Rushing towards the bed, Buffy dodged the cackling flames.  "I'm coming, Will.  I'm coming to—"

            A beam fell from the ceiling, narrowly missing the good slayer.  The smoke got thicker and Buffy's eyes began to water.  She dodged the unstable beam and picked up Willow.  Finally, lungs literally on fire, she sprinted out of the room, dropping Willow on the ground and herself collapsing against the wall.

            Giles went to Buffy as Xander approached to Willow's wilted body.  "Buffy!  Are you alright?" The British voice echoed numbly in her ears against the sound of the crackling fire.  She coughed, then got up.  The world was a bit woozy, but she would be alright.  It was nothing a bit of slayer healing couldn't fix.

            Catching her breath, Buffy held onto Giles' shoulder.  "We've got to get out of here.  Giles, call the fire department.  Xander, take Willow to the hospital."  Giles left, hurrying down the hallway, knocking on all the doors on the way.

Xander didn't move.  He sat by Willow's side, tracing her face slowly with his forefinger, then, in a surge of anger, shook her violently by the shoulders.  "Come on, Will, wake up!"

            Buffy placed her hand on his shoulder to comfort him.  "Xander, please take her to the hospital.  Now."  Her voice was firm.  Xander sighed in compliance then lifted Willow into his arms and followed Giles' path outside.

            Time to put those slayer skills to action, Buffy thought.  The fire was too larger for a simple fire extinguisher now.  Eyeing the drinking fountain down a door away, she wrenched it off the wall, leaving gallons of water to cascade down onto the carpeted floor of the dorm.  The smoke from Giles' room had activated the sprinklers, drenching the floor with water, although the building still burned red.

            She held the empty shell of the drinking fountain, then, on impulse, filled it with water and threw the collected liquid into the flames.  There was a hiss, but the fire was too large to be destroyed do easily.  The process was repeated several times, but Buffy only seemed to be stopping the fire from spreading rather than stopping it altogether.  The alternative of letting it spread wasn't much better, so Buffy was glad for what she could do.

Buffy continued her effort until she heard the fire truck sirens.  Not wanting to be fined for ruining public property, she escaped the scene, making sure everyone was out of the building and that the fire was dying down. Finally making sure the area was as secure as it was going to get, she left for the hospital and Will.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "Dr.  Mueller?"  Buffy tapped the middle-aged man on the shoulder.  "Is my friend—Willow Rosenberg—alright?"

            The graying doctor turned, his worn brown eyes meeting the short twenty-one-year-old's.  He gave her a small smile.  "Miss. . ."

            "Summers," she provided.  "Buffy Summers."

            "Miss Summers, your friend is going to be fine.  She has several severe burns, but she should recover in a few weeks."

            Unrealized by her, she let out a deep breath.  Willow was fine.  If she had lost Willow. . . . She didn't want to think about it.  All she wanted to do was see her friend's friendly smile and warm eyes framed by silky red hair.  "Can I see her?"

            "She's still recovering.  You can drop by tomorrow."  Dr. Mueller smiled, then waved his arm in the direction of the guest waiting room.  "You might want to tell Miss Rosenbaum's other friends that as well."

            Through the people in the hallway, she saw her friends sitting in a little huddle of chairs, all silent.  Xander was playing with his a pen and muttering something to himself as Anya gazed at him forlornly and Giles held a weeping Dawn.  Buffy walked over to them, announcing her presence with a light "Hey."

            "Buffy!"  Xander shot out of his chair.  "Is Willow alright?"

            His dark eyes were pained, his face etched in worry.  The pen he had been twirling in his fingers in apprehension was twisted and bent, his voice weak from holding in tears.  Her own eyes wet with unformed tears, she reached out and hugged him, falling into the familiar embrace of Xander's arms.  "Yeah. Yeah, she's alright.  It's just a few burns.  We can see her tomorrow."

            "Oh God, yes," he murmured, pulling her closer.  She felt his hot tears on her back.  In turn, the wetness filling her eyes overflowed onto her cheeks as she buried her head into his chest.  It was funny how much it hurt, even though Willow was fine.  But Willow and Xander were her best friends, the triumvirate that nothing could break apart.  They might fight, they might keep things from each other, but, Buffy realized, these two people were her life.  Three friends for life, however short in this dangerous business.  Two of them were nothing, but all three could take on the world.

            She sniffled as they parted, holding his gaze to reassure him, then sat down and took Dawn from Giles.  "Dawnie, she's fine.  We're all fine."  The sisters rocked back and forth.  Suddenly Dawn froze.  "What?"

            "I-I felt something."  She blinked and the shocked confusion was gone from her face, replaced with a casual, teenager "whatever" face.  "Nevermind.  I guess I'm just a little on the edge."

            "We all are," Giles replied.  "It's just going to take time."

            "Unfortunately, we're running out of it."  Buffy held her sister protectively.

            "Oh!"

            Everyone looked at Anya.  She rummaged in her leather purse, then pulled out a paper bag and handed it to Buffy.  "Your spring rolls."

            Buffy looked at the demon quizzically, then smiled and thanked Anya.  She opened the bag and bit into Hong Kong Dragon's famous spring rolls.  Sometimes it was best to ignore the pain and take pleasure in what was good.  And these were the best spring rolls she'd ever tasted.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            He couldn't explain the scientifics of it.  All that he knew was that he was in heaven.  Blood coursing through his body, fresh, warm, dripping sensually down his chin.  The supreme animal instinct overtook him as he sucked the once beautiful, bubbly college student of her life and future.  He loved the power of it, that in an instant he could destroy a life and destiny with that.

            He callously threw the dead brunette onto the cold asphalt of the alley.  Two angry holes on her neck spurted her last drops of blood.  It was a beautiful, yet terrifying contrast to her ashen skin.  He smiled, licking the blood from his lips. Yes, this was the life.  His life.  And he was loving it.

            As he walked down the street, picking and choosing the juiciest victims like apples in a market, he could only see one face in his eyes, the picture growing clearer of her destruction.  Blond locks curled around her face, those laughing brown eyes chuckling cruelly at him, tearing out his heart in that one, abhorrent glance.  He'd wipe that smirk off her face.  After all, she was nothing compared to what he now was.

            "Watch out, Slayer.  You're dead."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            He should've realized that hospital beds were evil.  Beds in general were after him.  When he was seven, his bed haunted him with the shadows it'd cast on the walls.  When he made Amy put that spell on Cordy and the surprise he received under his covers.  When Willow and he cheated on Oz and Cordelia and got caught.  And Faith.  Faith and her vibrant, lustful, and ultimately heartless seductions.

            Hospital beds were the worst, though.  That was where he ended up after too many fights gone bad, where kids and their freakish nightmares dwelled, and that fateful night he realized he loved Willow, just to hear her call out Oz's name.  Of course, now there was no Oz.  No Tara.  Just Willow and him, alone in the sterile room, her sleeping and him watching the cute smile that was playing on her lips.

            That in itself frightened him.  He'd almost lost Willow twice in the last few weeks and his feelings concerning her scared him.  Stronger than ever before, he didn't want to pursue the thoughts going through his head.  Willow and he didn't belong together; they had realized that a long time ago.  So how could he explain this surging emotions running passionately through his veins?

            Her eyes flickered and they opened slowly. "Xander?"

            "Hey Wills.  How ya doing?"  He pulled his chair closer to her, brushing the stray strands of hair from her face.

            "Good, I mean, not good, but better."  She yawned, wincing slightly.  "So, what are you doing here?"

            He couldn't wipe the shock off his face.  "Is that even a question?  You're my best friend!  If you're in the hospital, I'm there."

            "You always are, aren't you?"  She turned to face him, sitting up, still a bit groggy.  "Like after I tried to restore Angel's soul."

            Xander attempted to not let the memory resurface and pain him.  Willow needed strength right now, not a guy crying over some incident years ago.  "Yeah.  I think Cor brought me at least five cups of coffee.  I wanted to be there when you woke up."

            "And you were."  Willow smiled, taking his hand.

            He sighed.  "So was Oz."

            She flinched at that.  He hadn't meant it to come out harshly, but while he had accepted Oz, he hadn't liked him that much.  He didn't really trust anyone dating his best friend.  He didn't want her hurt.  "Yeah, but you were there first.  You're always here for me.  You stopped me from destroying the world. . . .Xander, since age five, you've always looked out for me and cared about me.  And since age five, I've cared about you to no less extent.  No boyfriend or girlfriend could change that. We'll always be best friends and I know I can count on you and you can always expect the same from me.  So I want to say thanks for always being there."  She smiled sincerely.

            Smiling back at her, he pulled her into a hug.  "I always will be.  I love you."

            "I love you, too."  Willow held the embrace for a second, then pulled back.  "How about to get the others so I can say 'hi'?"

            "Sure."  He got up and left the room, feeling somewhat relieved of a burden, but there was still something bothering him.  He hoped he could figure it out before it became a bigger problem he couldn't handle.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            Everyone had piled into Willow's hospital room.  After the traditional "get well"s and "feel better soon"s, Giles got straight to business.

            "What exactly happened?  I don't think you lit my apartment on fire on purpose."

            Willow shook her head.  "I was only trying to practice the meditation techniques you taught me.  I got into this trace, and it was like I was in angel world with music and clouds.  This golden bubbling liquid was surrounding my feet, and it felt really nice until it began to rise.  Then it started burning.  I cried out for you guys—"

            "We heard," Buffy said reassuringly.

            Nodding, the red-head continued.  "The liquid covered me and I was drowning. There were screams, really loud screams of all the people I hurt."  Willow swallowed the tears and guilt slowly.  "Then something grabbed me and hissed something about 'Freedom, help us.'  After that, I got out of the trance, but I was so weak I collapsed and knocked over the candles."

            "I'm not a professional at dream interpreting, but what I can decipher, the liquid was your magic, appealing at first, but then dangerous.  Drowning could be in guilt, since you hear your victims' screams.  The hand, I don't know, although 'Willow' means 'Freedom'."  Giles took off his glasses, biting his lip in deep thought.  "It could have to do with our other problem."

            "Other problem?" 

            "Willow, when you went. . . .bad, what kind of magic were you using?  What planes were you channeling?"

            She shook her head.  "I was tapping into a satanic power, every power I could get, I'm not sure exactly which ones.  All I know is that the magick was not mine.  It was being used through me, but it was much more power than I've ever had before.  Why?"

            "We've noticed a distinct rise in demons.  We believe that you're magic opened new portals to different dimensions in Hell.  The only way we can hope to defeat them is to know where exactly they're coming from."

            "I'll try to find out."  Willow put on her determined face, although her dark eyes shined with guilt.  Dawn, sensing this, gave her a hug.  The fact that Dawn did it surprised Willow.  Dawn was only a teenager and Willow had threatened her, told her that she'd use her magic to turn her into energy.  But Dawn had her sister's heart and was kind and nice to everyone.  Dawn's forgiveness was divine.

            Buffy coughed and Giles continued. "We have another problem.  There's a new Slayer."

            "W-W-What?!  Is this some kind of joke?!"  Xander cried, his aversion clear.  Anya looked confused, Willow taken aback, and Dawn surprised.

            "I'm afraid not."  Giles played with his glasses.  "Buffy died last year.  It's as simple as that.  A new Slayer has been called and we have to find her."

            The silence in the room was overwhelming.  The paused and delayed reactions to this information were wordless and masked in bewilderment.  Anya, indiscreet as ever, was the first to respond.  "That's just stupid."

            Buffy stifled a laugh.  "Has anyone ever told you that you have all the tact as Cordelia Chase?"

            "You mean that bitchy girl in high school who caused my necklace to get broken?"  Anya's face twisted up in animosity.

            "Uh, yeah."  Buffy answered quickly, moving on.  "Dawn, you're the teenager here.  Do you think you'd be able to figure out if one of your classmates was the Slayer?"  Dawn was still in a shocked trance.  Buffy waved her hand in front of her sister's eyes.  "Earth to Dawn."

            "Oh, sorry," Dawn apologized as she came back to the day.  "Not really, unless you unleashed a hungry vampire into our school for the Slayer to slay.  But I'll try."

            Buffy nodded.  "Good.  Finding this Slayer may be our only chance to defeat the demons coming.  We've got to be prepared.  I think you all know what that means."

            "Of course.  That means I whip out the Swiss army knives, Anya gets the wood, and we carve stakes all day just to realize that the evil people have captured us, making us reveal our most intimate secrets involving Pikachu boxers."  Xander shrugged.  "It's becoming routine."

            "Somehow, saving the world is not exactly routine, Xander," Buffy said, rolling her eyes.  "And what about Pikachu boxers?"

            Alexander Harris turned beet red.  "Uh-um-Anya! Sweetheart, let's go get that wood!"  He gritted his teeth as he pulled the complaining unnatural blonde out of the hospital room.

            "Yeah, we better get going.  Will, you need your rest."  Buffy smiled, touching her best friend's hand lightly.  "We'll see you tomorrow."

            As her friends left, Willow bit her lip, trying to prevent herself from crying.  "See you tomorrow," she whispered to the door, breaking down and sobbing heavy tears onto the thin hospital gown, creating marks.  She was going to change and make everything right.  Everything.


	3. Revelations

**Chapter Three:  Revelations**

            She was in trouble.  People were catching on.  They knew her, her real self, not that fancy façade of carefree smiles and friendly personality.  She was faltering in her disguise.  She was leaving loose ends to be found.  She was getting sloppy.

            At least they hadn't put all the pieces together.  Not yet, anyway.  She could still smile without getting a questioning glare and hold on to the fake life she treasured.  IF she was discovered, well, she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.  For now, the only thing she cared about was covering her tracks.  She took a deep breath and grabbed her coat.  This could get messy.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            Giles was at the books.  Big surprise there.  Buffy turned around the chair that was across the table from him and straddled it.  "Whatcha doin'?"

            "Trying to find out the possibilities that the discussed demons could come from which realms.  Unfortunately, many texts involving such demonic realms have been lost over time."  Giles let out an irritated sigh.  "Being a watcher is limited by time.  Time of the necessary books and information, time of the attack, time in general runs life, especially mine.  And right now it is working against me."

            "Well, what books do you need?  I can pull in a few favors.  No, change that.  _A lot of favors."  Buffy smiled, trying to comfort her distressed Watcher.  She knew very well that time was running out.  The demons last night hadn't stopped until about a little after daybreak.  She sent Xander and Anya home to recuperate and she took a cat nap after she had cleared the area from any immediate threats._

            "A-an old volume called the _Kitshch__ Quol would be enormously helpful," Giles said, writing it down on a random piece of paper for the language-inept Slayer,  "and an eleventh century one called __Noir Magique."_

            "Okay.  I'll get on it."  Buffy got off the chair and grabbed the piece of paper.  "If I find out anything, I'll call.  If I don't, I'll see you tomorrow.  Patrol is hereby extended to 24/7 mode."  She sighed, noticing the man had already tuned her out and returned to his research. "Okay, then.  I'll see you later.  And don't overstress yourself with that reading.  Too much is bad for your health."  She then grabbed a sword from her slaying supplies box and left.

            "Too much reading is bad for your health," Giles repeated incredulously.  Shaking his head, Giles returned to his attention to the hoard of assorted volumes in front of him.  Time for _Un__ Cum Os._

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "I'm thinking Vegas, maybe in that Star Trek place.  I've always wanted to be an alien!"  Anya threw herself across the bed, looking up at the ceiling while Xander paced.

            "An, you're a demon.  That's a lot weirder than an alien."

            Anya put her hands behind her head.  "Yes, but it'd be so cool to be an alien!"

            Xander sat down next to her, looking at her ears in decision.  "I think I prefer you to a Vulcan."

            "How about Seven of Nine?"

            "Okay, no fair, you're playing with my hormones!"  Xander smiled and Anya sat up, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.  He twirled her long blond hair in his fingers, pulling her closer and deepening their kiss.  After a pleasured eternity, they separated to breathe, foreheads resting comfortably together.  "Yeah," Xander whispered.  "Definitely playing with my hormones."

            Anya smiled faintly.  "Xander, what do you think is going to happen?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "With the new slayer.  The new baddie.  Willow in the hospital.  Us."

            He shrugged, not wanting to think about it, any of it.  The new slayer scared him considering his previous encounter with Faith.  As for a new almighty terror demon, he was scared, but trusted Buffy would manage to defeat it.  But Willow. . . his feelings were jumbled, unclear even to himself.  And those feelings were tied directly to the relationship he'd decided to re-pursue with Anya.  He wanted Anya.  He was sure of that.  But that desire was completely different from the need and desire he felt for Willow.  Everything was getting too complicated.  What he wouldn't have done for the simplicity of "I want to open the Hellmouth" demons and no personal problems with that.  But Anya wouldn't understand that answer.  He didn't want her to.  So, in typical covering up fashion, he murmured, "Everything will be alright.  And this time we'll make it work."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "Fred?  Hi, it's Buffy.  Can you put Angel on the phone? . . . .Angel's gone. . . .Cordy's gone. . . .Wesley's gon—Fred, who exactly _is there?  . . . . You and Charles?  Okay.  When Angel comes back, can you tell him to . . . You don't know when he's coming back. . . . He's been gone for two weeks?!  Okay, Fred, hang on.  What? . . . . You think he's searching for Connor, who's also missing.  Should I come to L.A. to help? . . . If you say so…No, things are alright here….just some demons-from-another-dimension trouble…I don't think they are from Pylea….Giles is guessing that they are from some old satanic realm….Trust me, Fred, we're fine….You look for Angel and the gang….We're fine, Fred.  Please, when you find Angel, tell him to call me.  See you later.  Say hi to Gunn for me.  Bye."_

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            The spell was simple in itself for all the power it had.  Yes, she wasn't supposed to use magick, but this was necessary.  She couldn't stand this destiny she had chosen, and neither could her friends, she was sure.  Willow licked her lips as she set the open packages in front of her.  It wasn't as pure as if she used real materials, but magick-made was almost as good and would suffice for what she had to do.

            Thyme and crushed lilac was in a small pile.  She lit it with a match in a small porcelain bowl.  Willow had deactivated the fire alarms in her wing so that the spell wouldn't be interrupted.  Clearing her throat, she spoke loudly as the burning aroma filled the room.

            _"The lilac burns_

_             And time shall turn."_

            She picked up the Glatz.  The ruby facets of the glimmering gemstone pyramid reflected her pale reflection.  Holding the stone at an angle to her arm, Willow took a deep breath, then ran its sharp point across her smooth skin, deep crimson blood appearing on the line she'd drawn.

            Willow swallowed her pain and continued the incantation as she put the Glatz on the rim of the porcelain bowl, held her arm out, and watched her blood drip down over the tip of the pyramid into the flame.

            _"Blood of mine_

_ Mixed with thyme."_

            She picked up the smooth gray stone on her right and lifted it above the Glatz.  Shiny red shards fell into the bowl as she brought the stone down on the gem.

            _"Thyme and time_

_             A rift will shine."_

            A glow filled the room, the familiar sensation of magic running through her veins.  Blinded by the light, Willow raised her arms in command as a hollow whistling sound filled the air.

            _"Fates of time, this spell I cast_

_             Change my future, change my past."_

            Willow lifted the picture of Buffy, Xander, and herself from the end of their sophomore year.  The wind whipped around her, battering the photo as she struggled to drop it into the bowl.  Finally, she dropped in the picture and her head shot back, golden beams coming out of her eyes and mouth.

            **"Change my past!"**

            The wind whisked the contents in the bowl up, spinning around her.  Willow bathed in the power of the spell, too caught up in the time-changing ecstasy to notice that in the picture she had dropped in, a rip had formed across the photo-triumvirate.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            She was naïve and he'd take advantage of it.  After all, she was almost inviting him to drink to his heart's content.  Hesitantly, but maliciously, he reached out, starting from pulling in magical fragments, then digging deeper to her core.  He would be free.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            This was stupid.  She was on patrol, and she was trying to avoid Buffy and co.?  Well, it was her destiny, and hey, she wasn't going to let anyone die.  "Hello, vampy!"

            She kneed the vampire, turning swiftly and kicking a veiny demon in the head.  Spinning her sword like a baton twirler, she aimed for the heart of the demon.  Before she could graze its skin, though, a powerful blow hit her from behind.  She spat out the dirt and attacked her assaulter, a greenish-yellow demon with gills.  "Oh, bad choice."

With an uppercut, she knocked the demon down and kicked the vampire, following the blow with an effortless beheading.  She turned swiftly, adjusting her hold on her sword to slice the first demon in half.  With a smile on her face, she stood over the gilled demon, sword perilously over its heart.  "That's the last time you challenge a slayer."  Triumphantly, she brought the sword up, then crashed it down.  The smile of accomplishment spread on her lips.

            "Hey you!  What are you doing?!"

            She stood there for a moment, frozen.  This was not happening.  She turned on her heels and ran.  She was not getting caught, she was not getting caught—

            The figure tackled her, sending her to the ground.  She was violently flipped onto her backside as a short gasp escaped her captor.

            "Dawn?"

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            Everything began rushing to her.  Years and years whipped around her.  Days, minutes, smiles, yells, kisses—it came back in such clarity that Willow grabbed the table next to her to steady herself.  The spell was working, it would work, she would make everything better—

            A lump formed in her throat, the uneasy sensation running down her spine.  Something was tapping into her magic.  Something sinister was pulling the Wiccan powers out of her, draining her strength.  This was a powerful demon, the one Giles had been talking about.  _Cut it off! She screamed to herself.  __Stop the spell!_

            But she couldn't.  The demon held her, wouldn't let her drop the spell.  Willow felt her blood run cold as time began to slow.  The spell was almost complete, and with it, she was sure she'd release an awful demonic power.  Willow, with all of her strength focused, hit the bowl of ingredients to the floor and watched the porcelain bowl burst into shards.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "You're the new slayer?"  Buffy approached her sister, anger rising in her voice.  "Why didn't you tell us?"

            "Why didn't I—jeez, Buffy, I wonder why.  It's not like you actually paid any attention to me in the last year!  How would you have known that I've gone out practically every night to fight the monsters endangering the world?"  Dawn absentmindedly played with her sword. Soft tears began falling on her cheeks as she shuddered in anger and sadness and guilt.  "It's not like I wanted this."

            "Oh, Dawnie."  Buffy enveloped her sister in a hug.  "None of us chose this destiny, but it really isn't that bad."

            "It's not bad that I can't have a normal life or a boyfriend or just friends."  Dawn shook her head, wiping the tears from her reddened eyes.  "How did you stand high school?"

            "You just have to find your own Scooby Gang of assorted witches and demons and vampires and loyal friends and a good Watcher."  Buffy looked at Dawn sympathetically.  "And I've had boyfriends.  Really strange boyfriends, but boyfriends all the same."

            "Sorry, but screwing vampires is not my idea of fun."  The teenager instantly covered her mouth.  "Oh, god, I'm so sorry.  That just came out—"

            "No, Dawn, you're right.  I haven't had much luck in relationships and haven't been a good role model for you.  So, from now on, I'll be there for you whenever you need help.  I always have been, and always will.  Well, except for math.  That you bring to Willow."

            Dawn smiled.  "Buffy, I—" she cut herself off.  "What the heck is that?"

            "What?"  Buffy turned around, seeing a large rift, glowing gold.  "Oh my god."

            A large, greenish arm reached through the shining hole in space.  Pinkish, frothy bubbles contrasted against its scaly skin, the pastel bubbles overflowing into the cemetery's moist grass.  Finally, the head of the beast came through, haunting and malicious opaque white eyes surveying the sisters, as if deciding which to eat first.  Buffy instinctively protected her sister, lifting up her sword.  "Dawn, run."

            "No."  Her sister lifted up her sword, twirling it into a defense stance.  "We're going to face this together, Slayer and Slayer."  Dawn grinned, reassuring Buffy that she'd be alright.  Looking back at the emerging demon, she chanted, "Bring it on."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            "NO!"  Willow screamed.  She felt her body tear into two.  _What the hell is going on?  She tried to steady her breath, but an excruciating pain ripped through her chest.  The burns on her pale skin reopened, burning with a passionate flame.  No one could hear her, her pain.  It just kept whipping her already weakened body.  Then everything went black._

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            Xander and Anya were in the uncomfortable position between being on top of the covers and being under the covers when Xander collapsed, eyes watering in pain.  It felt like he was being dismembered.  "Anya!"  He choked out.  "Help me!"

            Anya watched in horror as her boyfriend phased in and out of her arms.  She tried to hold onto him, but her quivering fingers went through his shoulder.  His brown eyes pleaded with her as she cried out his name.  Alexander Harris was gone.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

            The demon emerged.  Buffy gave a quick nod to her sister and then they attacked.  Both welded their swords at the demon, and were thrown back by some mystical force.  Buffy coughed.  "Dawn, are you alright?"

            The other Slayer nodded, springing to her feet.  Buffy followed suit.  Running back in retaliation, Dawn didn't see her sister fall.  It wasn't until the demon grabbed her by the throat that she saw that Buffy had disappeared.

"Buffy!"  The teenager's cry was followed by silence.


	4. The Future Is the Past

Author's Note:  I'm sorry to all for updating this so slowly.  I've been extremely busy.  Thank you all who have reviewed.  I hope you like this chapter as well.

Disclaimer:  Still don't own it.  See Chapter One.

**Chapter Four:  The Future Is The Past**

            "Oz, stop."  Willow giggled as Oz tickled her with little kisses along her neck.

            His eyes flashed in animal pleasure.  Willow looked back in glee and kissed him. Suddenly, Willow ripped herself away and gazed at him in fear and confusion. She scuttled out from under him, jumping out of bed and pressing herself against the door, a good four feet away from the werewolf.  "Willow, what's wrong?"  He blinked.  "You do know you're wearing a hospital gown, right?"

            "What?"  Willow looked down at the flimsy gown.  Everything was so confusing.  Oz was off in Tibet or someplace and why was she. . . .The spell!  She didn't stop it in time.  That meant that in the future, some unknown demon was wreaking havoc on Sunnydale.  But she should have been taken back in conscious, not _physically.  And this was not the time she'd wanted to be spat out at.  "Oz, what's the date?"_

            He looked at her dumbfounded and replied, "November 1st, 1999."  He approached her.  "Why?"

            The spell hadn't finished after all.  She'd stopped it right before completion and was sent back, but not all the way back.  Looking at Oz, she shook with a desire she hadn't felt for a long time.  But that was beside the point.  She needed to get back and save her future friends.  Willow answered Oz as plainly as she could with "Uh, no reason.  I gotta go see Buffy," then frantically opened the door started to sprint down the hall before Oz grabbed her wrist and gently turned her to face him.

He searched her face for an answer to her odd behavior, but her face was hardened, almost with age.  He ran his fingers through her hair.  She flinched, but didn't move away.  There was a scar he'd never noticed partially hidden by her hairline and. . . .  "Is your hair longer than it was a moment ago?"

            "Oz, please let go of me.  I really have to find Buffy."  Her face softened into vulnerability.  He let her go and she exchanged a smile with him before continuing down the hallway.

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            "Where's Dawn?"

            Giles looked at the frenzied Slayer in bewilderment.  Honestly, teenagers had no straight train of thought.  Just a moment ago, she'd been ranting how The New Kids on the Block would always be cool.  "Who is this Dawn?"

            "Who do you think Dawn is?  Buffy doesn't have many sisters named Dawn, now does she?  Did that trip to England screw with your brains?"  Xander shook his head.  "Better question.  Where's Anya?"

            "The even better question would be 'Why are you wearing only your boxers?' "  Giles almost laughed at the poor boy as he yelped and hid behind the couch, but pulled his attention back to Buffy.  "And Buffy doesn't—" He stood up in shock.  "Buffy, you're bleeding."

            She glared at him, angry and confused.  She waved a sword that Giles certainly remembered her not having before wildly.  "What do you think happens when you're battling an insane demon from a dimension you've never heard of?"

            "Battling a d—"

            The incessant ring of the Summers' doorbell momentarily gave each of them a few seconds to pick up their scattered thoughts before the Slayer opened the door.  Willow, clad in a hospital gown, was on her front porch.  "Willow?  What are you—"

"Buffy!"  Willow cut her off.  The redhead's eyes looked down to the floor as she caught her breath.  "Oh my God, Buffy, I've made a horrible mistake."

            Buffy eyes widened.  "You did this?!  What did we tell you about magic?!" she shouted vehemently.  "I swear, Willow, if anything happened to Dawn. . ."

            "Wills, what did you do?"  Xander looked over the couch, staring at his best friend in disbelief.

            "Will someone explain to me what's going on?!"  Giles' patience had run out.  The three arguing friends grew silent.

            Willow hung her head guiltily.  "It's a long story."

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            The witch was gone.  He couldn't feel her presence or power; there was only a few wisps of her left here, traces of her magick.  He laughed.  She tried to stop him, but ended up destroying herself.  How ironic.  He laughed again.

            The paved streets were odd.  The last time he'd walked on this earth, he'd been quite young.  The millions-of-years-old memory resurfaced.  Bubbling lava drenched the surface of the planet, a hot, sticky air settling on the foul creatures that lived there.  It was a place for demons and the undead, a feasting realm.

            But it lasted less than a millennia, not even close to the eternity his kind had predicted.  He watched as the humans rebelled, led by a young girl, barely a woman, with flowing black hair and dark, untamed eyes.  His parents were killed; his friends and fellow demons slaughtered; the last thing he'd seen of this world before he'd escaped through a dimensional rift, was the girl pouncing on Ja'hilk, his lover, before he could pull her through with him.  Ja'hilk's blood had splattered across his face as the girl shot him a vicious grin, tearing Ja'hilk's flesh away from her bones, mutilating the beautiful body.  Anger had boiled in his veins, driving him crazy with vengeance.  Right as he was about to snap the puny human's neck, the rift closed, spiraling him into the reality that had been his home for too long.

            And he'd waited.  Waited to break free and avenge Ja'hilk's death.  Waited to taste the flesh of girl who had destroyed his live.  And his time had come.  He'd finally drink the blood of the Slayer.

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            "Let me see if I understand, Willow.  You, upset with the future, cast a spell to change your past.  While this was happening, Buffy was with 'Dawn', who is the third slayer and Buffy's sister, and Xander was—well, never mind that.  You felt something draining your power, so you stopped the spell.  At that time, Buffy and Dawn were fighting a new demon.  Then you all experienced a great pain and you were here."  Giles frowned.  "I still don't understand how you did this.  You don't have that much power, Willow.  Time travel takes an experien—"

            "A lot's happened in the last three years, Giles.  I'm not the little computer-whiz, Wiccan-on-the-side college student anymore.  I have full-blown powers now and recently tried to destroy the world."  She flinched unwittingly as she said that.  Taking a deep breath, Willow continued.  "Future Giles believed that this process of me going evil made me tap into some old, dark magicks and release some demons from another realm entirely.  One demon, I'm guessing the one that attacked Buffy and Dawn, was leeching off of my powers while I performed the spell.  I threw the ingredients to the floor to stop the demon from getting free, but it obviously didn't work.  The demon is in the future, wreaking havoc on our lives.  And we're in the past and can't even stop him!"

            Buffy leaned back into the couch, exhaling slowly.  "Couldn't you just send us back, Willow?  I mean, you should be able to reverse the spell, right?"

            Willow shook her head solemnly.  "I don't think so.  Technically, if the spell had gone right, I would be the only one to remember.  And we wouldn't have physically been sent back, only mentally."

            "That leaves the obvious question," Xander said, rejoining the conversation after grabbing a robe from the Summers' bathroom.  As they all looked at him, he held a steady gaze.  "Where are our past selves?"

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            Willow started to hyperventilate.  What had happened to Oz?  Where was she?  Telling herself to calm down, she looked at her surroundings.  She was in a hospital room, with several magical herbs around her and a shattered Glatz on the floor.  Glatz. . . It was a powerful gem, with unlimited energy used specifically for bending time.  Was that what happened?  Someone had used this Glatz to bring her here?  It was the future, she supposed from the unfamiliar surroundings.

She slipped off the bed, looking at the blood-red shards scattered on the ground.  The Glatz was a deep part of dark magicks, although on rare occasions she knew it had been used for good.  Of course, most of those rare occasions ended up backfiring and destroying the person who had cast the spell.  Whoever had taken her here must have been pretty desperate.

Something caught her eye behind the glint of the Glatz.  Squatting down to pick it up, she held it up to the light.  It was a torn photo, burned at the edges, but she could she the smiling faces of Buffy, Xander and herself.  She remembered that picture.  They had just defeated the Master. Buffy was wearing that gorgeous white dress and she had complained that she didn't even get to go to the dance and show it off.  So they'd gone off to the Bronze and danced the night away.  Cordelia had managed to keep her popular air about her as she allowed several unworthy boys dance with her.  Jenny had stayed and convinced Giles to join her on the dance floor for a few numbers.  Willow had snuck in a few slow songs with Xander, thoroughly propelling her into heaven.  Buffy and Angel had slow danced the whole night, although Buffy seemed incredibly numb from the whole dying-and-coming-back experience.  When morning broke, Angel left for fear of bursting into potential flames.  Jenny was about to go and remarked how cute Buffy, Xander and Willow looked at that moment.  Giles, eager to please the technopagan, bought a camera off a random high-schooler and took a picture, promising her a copy.  He'd given them all a copy the day Buffy left for vacation and as far as Willow knew, her copy was in her photo album in her dorm.

She pocketed the photo and walked up to the door, almost getting knocked over by an incoming doctor.  "Oh, I'm sorry, sir.  I was just. . . um, leaving."

The graying doctor looked at Willow in shock.  "Miss Rosenbaum, you shouldn't be up.  You have several severe burns that need to be. . ."  He looked her over, noticing that the redhead now was wearing a crème-colored sweater and dark corduroy pants, not a scar on her body.  Her hair was in a spunky, shorter cut.

"Miss Rosenberg, um, do you have a twin?"

"Twin?"  Of course she had a twin.  Just like she had her imaginary dog Froo-Froo, or owned a complete video collection of_ Star Trek, or. . .her jaw dropped slightly in shock.  What the doctor had said finally set in.  _She'd_ cast the spell, or at least her future self had.  Something obviously had gone wrong, which sent her to the future.  Which meant that her future self was in the past with Oz.  Willow felt a serious headache coming on.  "Yes, actually, I'm, uh, Teresa.  Willow's sister.  Twin sister.  Identical twin sister.  I was just, um, checking up on her."_

The man didn't appear to believe her, but was too stunned to stop her from giving him a smile and swiftly getting out of there ASAP.  Hopefully the rest of the Scooby Gang was in this future, because the more time she spent in the here, the worse this was going to get.

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            "Xander?  Are you alright?"  Anya looked at her boyfriend.  "What just happened?"

            "Anya?  What are you doing here?"  Xander's eyes readjusted to the vengeance demon in front of him instead of the ranting Slayer.  He looked around a moment.  This was definitely not a place he recognized, unless his dad had just won the lottery and never told him.

            He got off the bed, staring at Anya in bewilderment.  The—now blonde?—demon wore only a pair of scandalously barely-there black panties and bra, and the way that she was crouched only furthered Xander's confusion.  Sure, he'd, well, had sex with Anya, but this whole idea was still a bit disconcerting, especially since he didn't know how he'd gotten here.  "Anya, what—"

            "You're wearing clothes.  Why are you wearing clothes?"  She looked at him in complete seriousness.

            "Why am I wearing clothes?  Why wouldn't I be wearing clothes?"  He looked down at the plaid shirt and cargo pants and then back at the rather, um, lack of any clothes on his girlfriend.  Was it just him, or was it just a bit hot in here?  "Clothes, good.  Good clothes." he muttered, beginning to pace.  "Anya, where are we?"

            Anya sat up, reaching for her discarded blouse as she gave him an odd look.  "Your apartment.  Xander, what happened?"

            "Anya, I don't own an apartment.  You know that I live in my parents' basement, don't you?  I mean, you've been there before."

            "No," Anya said persistently, buttoning the blouse.  "You bought this place almost two years ago.  Remember when that demon split you into two? You made me carry boxes."

            "Carry boxes?"  Xander shook his head, arms moving frantically.  "Anya, I need to see Buffy and Giles.  Now."

            Anya pouted, but slipped back into her crumpled skirt anyway.  "Fine.  They're probably at Buffy's, considering what a number Willow did to Giles' apartment."  As he opened the bedroom door, she touched his arm, turning him around to look at her.  "Xander, do you still love me?  I know after all that happened with the wedding and Spike that you might not, but, god, Xander, you're sending me too many signals.  I don't know what you want.  Do you want me or not?"

            Xander looked at her speechless.  There was definitely something going on.  Wedding?  "Anya, I think I'm having some sort of identity crisis right now.  This is probably not the best time to be discussing this.  I need you to help me.  Can you do that?"

            Anya reluctantly nodded.  "Good," Xander murmured, cupping her cheek in his hand and kissing her lightly.  "Now, come on." He smiled and put on a thick Cuban accent.  "Giles has got some 'splaining to do."

            " 'Splaining?"

             "You never watched T.V. in the fifties, did you?" Xander said, opening the apartment door into the hallway.

            "Too busy turning husbands into pond scum."

            "Right."

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            Willow walked fast.  She was two blocks from the Summers' house, and with every step she got more nervous.  There was this sickening taste in the air, of blood and vengeance.  She shook it away, trying to concentrate on the sidewalk in front of her.  Buffy would explain this.  Then Giles and the rest of them could research and kick some demon ass.

            Just a half block left.  Willow quickened her pace, the light on the front porch illuminating her face.  She didn't realize how high-strung she was until she almost jumped a mile high when a car honked at her.

            The car parked, and Xander and Anya came out.  "Thank god you're here," Willow sighed, regaining composure and hugging Xander briefly, much to Anya's obvious dislike.

            "Wills, you okay?"  Xander touched her arm lightly.

Willow nodded fervently, looking at the two and crossing her arms across her chest.  She didn't know what to say, so she blurted out, "I think I'm in the future."

The silence she was expecting (that and a laugh track) was cut off by Anya's blunt tone.  "Well that certainly explains a lot."  Willow looked at the vengeance demon, who just shrugged.  "It does.  Your hair is in that awful 'do from three years ago and Xander had barely any recollection that we're involved."

"Three years?"  Xander blinked in amazement.  "So where am I?  Have I run Microsoft to the ground yet?"

Anya gave him a weird look.  "No, but you got a promotion in your construction company.  You're going to oversee the construction of the new Sunnydale High."

"And we just blew it up," Xander quipped softly.  He looked at the two of them.  Willow's eyes were clouded with her racing thoughts and Anya just seemed pissed.  "Okay.  Let's go see Buffy.  She'll get the goings-on and help us."

They nodded, hopping into "Xander's" car, driving the rest of the way to Buffy's house.  Willow was still rather jumpy, but she'd calmed down considerably, only ringing the doorbell three times in succession.  As they waited outside, Anya rolled her eyes.  "Oh, for crying out loud."  She disappeared and the door opened, revealing the cocky magic shop owner.

"I thought you weren't a demon anymore," Xander said, stepping into the dark house.  It didn't look like anyone was home.  Willow closed the door behind them and switched on the light.

"Yeah, well, a lot can happen in three years."  Anya's sarcasm stopped them from noticing the raw pain that flashed across her face.

Willow sat down on the couch, looking around.  "There a cup mark here on the table that wasn't there before….and there's a tear in the couch….and, do you know you're a blonde, Anya?"

"Yes, Willow, it said Honey Blonde #48 on the package."  She stomped over, looking at the two time-trippers.  Xander was also looking around, noticing the small differences and, at Willow's words, her.

He looked her over decisively.  "I think it suits you.  Blonde.  You.  I don't know, it just fits."  He paused.  "What are we going to do?"

"Well, Buffy's not here," Anya stated.  She turned to Willow, snapping her out of her trance.  "How about we ask the witch who gets this."

Willow blinked, then spoke.  "Well, I mean, I don't understand it exactly, 'cause, hello, never time traveled before, but apparently I did this.  Well, not me, me.  Future…me."  Her brow furrowed.  "By the ingredients by I found, she probably preformed some powerful black magic, using a Glatz.  I've read about these spells, but not extensively enough to get understand what went wrong."  She sighed.  "But if we're here, they….we….future-us are probably in our past right now, existing at the exact moment we were pulled into this part of the timeline."

"Question, Wills.  Are we the only ones affected?  What if it's just everybody but Anya, who has demony protection, has been sent to the future?"

"No, the doctor at the hospital thought I was injured, which probably means he's seen my injured future-self.  It's probably just—" Willow gasped, reached into her pocket and pulling something out.

"What?"  Xander came over and sat next to her on the couch, staring at what his best friend had just pulled out.

Willow bit her lip, looking at the picture of herself, Xander and Buffy.  "Buffy.  Buffy is in the future with us.  And she doesn't know."

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            _Where the hell am I?_

            Buffy opened her eyes, disconcerted.  Where was she?  Where was Giles?  Where was Xander?  She blinked again, gazing at the fallen body on the bloodstained grass.  "Oh my god."

            The teen's long brown hair was slick with her own blood streaming from a deep cut in the back of her head.  Her skin was washed in the dirt, her head lolled away from her body awkwardly.  Buffy crawled toward the teen, smoothing the sticky hair away from her ashen face.  The slayer's fingers found their way to the girl's neck and she gave a sigh of relief.  There was a weak pulse, but any pulse was better than none.

            Buffy gathered the girl into her arms, standing up.  She was in Sunnydale Cemetery, with no idea whatsoever where she was.  The best route was probably to get the girl to the hospital.

            The night was sparkling with stars.  The funny thing was, last thing she remembered, it was morning.  Early morning.  Giles had come over for some ungodly morning training and Xander had dropped by for some "girl" help (he'd said he'd heard Willow was a little "busy" and couldn't help him).  So then they'd gotten a bit off topic and had been discussing music when she was transported here, miles away from her house.

            The girl was beginning to stir.  Her eyelids flickered and Buffy stopped, waiting for the girl to wake up.  The girl's brown eyes looked at her hazily, disembodied and confused.  "Buffy?"  The voice was hoarse and forced.  "What happened to the demon?"

            How was it that this girl knew her name and Buffy had never seen her in her life?  "Demon?"

            "Buffy, come on.  It's still out there.  We've got to go get it."  The girl fought out of the blonde's grasp, returning to her feet.  She had perfect balance for someone with that bad of an injury.  Buffy stood in shock.

            The girl grabbed at her hand pulling her down the street.  "Buffy, we've got to go now.  You remember what Giles said about this demon."

            "Giles?  How do you know Giles?"  What was this girl talking about?  Everything was so confusing.  Even then cemetery had looked different.  "Who are you?"

            The girl looked at her impatiently.  "Buffy, this is not a time for games and you know it.  Come on, we've got some demon ass to kick."

            Before Buffy could respond, a man came out of nowhere and attacked her, pinning her down.  As she struggled under him, she caught his eyes.  "Spike?"

            She kicked him off of her, ripping a branch off a nearby tree and holding it up.  "I swear, this time, I am going to kick your a—"

            "Slayer, you don't know what you're talking about.  Chip's been neutralized, and I'm here to kill you all."


	5. A Matter of Time

**A/N**: I wrote three more chapters of this story back in 2003. While I don't necessarily see finishing this story, it was the most ambitious project I ever took on and I would like all of it to be online as a testement to my first and only attempt for an "epic-like" fan fic. If you like it, please review and tell me. I appreciate all comments.

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**Chapter 5: A Matter of Time **

"Okay. Let's see. I've got one girl who claims to know me, yet I don't know her and one old villain who's muttering about potato chips or something. I think I've finally gone insane." Buffy backed away from the two, holding her fighting stance.

The girl looked from Buffy to Spike, then, pulling a stake from a back holster, charged at the vampire, taking him to the ground. She straddled him, the stake lifted perilously over his heart. "You bastard!" she shouted vehemently. "First you rape my sister, then you try to kill us. Chipped or not, I'm gonna dust you."

Buffy looked on, surprised, barely coherent thoughts filling her mind. "What the hell is going on?" she whispered. She grabbed the girl off Spike, separated the two and repeated, louder, "What the hell is going on?!"

Spike adjusted his leather coat. "Your sister's gone mad, that's what. Actually thinking she could take me." He chuckled.

"Sister?" Buffy looked at the girl. "I don't have a sister." She shook her head. "I think I'd know if I had a sister."

The girl stood there, speechless. "Buffy, you know me. I'm Dawn, your sister!"

"Ha. Slayer doesn't know her own sister. This is getting better and better." He lit a cigarette. "But, please, can we get onto the killing already?"

"And yet in three years Spike has not changed one bit."

Buffy turned at the familiar voice. "Xander!" she called to her best friend who was getting out of a car. His car? Xander definitely didn't have enough money for a car that nice. It looked like it actually had automatic transmission and was under twenty years old. "Nice wheels."

He looked at the car, then back at her. "Yeah. My future self sure can pick a great car."

"Future self?" Buffy asked. Things were being to fall into place. "Xander, what's going on?"

"We're in the future. You, me, and Willow. Approximately three years. Willow'll explain it. We should probably get back to your house and I'll call Willow and Anya off their search."

Buffy's eyebrows lifted in shock. Her soundless words finally came out a moment later. "Alright. Spike and, um, Dawn?"—she looked at the girl questioningly, and the brunette nodded—"get into the car. Xander, explain as much as you can on the way."

This was going to be a long night.

Buffy rubbed her hands together. She wasn't so much cold as uncomfortable. She wanted to yell at Willow. How could she use magic after what happened to her? How could she stick them in the past when Dawn could very well be dead, her blood staining the grass as her body adorned some tombstone? Buffy pushed the thoughts away, but the visions persisted.

"Buff, you cold?" Xander looked at her, speaking the first words after Giles left to get some ancient volumes from his apartment.

She shook her head. "No, not really. A bit hungry. Brownies would be good."

Willow's face perked up as she waved her hand over the table, chanting rapid Latin. A plate of brownies appeared on the table. Willow suddenly froze, realizing what she had done. She raised her hand again to send the desert away, but Buffy reached out and grabbed one before she could. Willow looked at her quizzically, but Buffy just shook her head and ate the brownie, careful that the fragile amicability that she'd managed wouldn't fall apart right then and there.

Buffy ate the brownie tentatively, embracing the sweetness and trying to forget it was just magick. An illusion of sweetness, of "controlled" power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. That's what had happened to Willow before and Buffy was afraid it would happen again. This time travel thing was one step in that direction.

Xander picked up a brownie and examined it. "Hmm. Wonderful texture, although a little overboard on the powdered sugar, but a delightfully chocolate dessert all the same."

Willow smiled at Xander. No matter what, he was there, cracking jokes and making them laugh. Making her laugh. After all that happened, after being best friends for almost her entire life, Xander could still make her laugh. It wasn't what defined him exactly, because Xander could do anything he set his mind to. Hell, he could save the world! But laughing always seemed like a better alternative to the rigors of stopping the Apocalypse.

Buffy finished off the brownie and, taking a deep breath, spoke. "Okay, we need to get back to the future, Will. This demon that you released is powerful. Extremely powerful. If two Slayers couldn't take it on…."

"I know, Buffy, I know. I need to find out how the spell went wrong. That in itself is a difficult matter. It's not like I can just point and change everything back like I'm Sabrina the Teenage Witch or something."

"Well, you're going to have to try. I don't want to be stuck in the past forever. There are some things I wouldn't like to experience again." She took a deep breath, trying to forget the past year of Spike and death.

"But think about this, Buff," Xander said, reaching for another brownie. "You know the future. You can change the future. Take back all the mistakes you made, or change something for the better."

Buffy was silent, comprehending this. "I could—"

"No, you can't." Xander and Buffy looked at Willow. "If you change the past, you change the future. If you change one event, you might find yourself dead."

"Wasn't that what you were going to do?" Buffy glared at Willow's guilty face. "I could change all my mistakes. I could—"

The Summers' door opened. The three turned and Buffy froze in shock. She stood up slowly, jaw dropped, walking toward the visitor. "Oh my god," she whispered. "Mom?"

Joyce Summers looked back at her daughter, dropping her handbag and closing the door. "Buffy," she asked, concernedly, "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

" Willow, Xander said you knew what was going on. What's this about us being in the future?" Buffy leaned against the doorframe into the living room, looking at the eighteen-year-old computer whiz.

Willow tucked an orange lock behind her ear, stumbling a bit on her words, uncomfortable with so many people watching her. "Well, um, when I was brought, you know, here, in this, um, time, I was at the hospital and I found a, uh, G-Glatz on the floor with several herbs and uh, this picture." She took the picture out of her pocket, showing it to Buffy. "I, um, am guessing that I was the one who transported us here. Well, not me, me, but future me. Anyway, the Glatz is a powerful, dark magick gem. It should be avoided to use in spells at all costs because it is that unstable and unpredictable. Is there any reason I would be that desperate to change the past? I mean, how much more hellish can fighting demons get?"

"You got addicted to magick. Tara died. You tried to destroy the world. Xander stopped you. You've been in magical rehab for the past few weeks with Giles." Anya cocked her head to one side, casually repeating the past year. "That seems to sum it up."

"T-Tara? Who's Tara? And I-I would never, I mean, I don't think I would ever try to destroy the world! I also wouldn't let my magick get that out of control!" Willow shook her head in shock.

Spike puffed out cigarette smoke and then placed the Camel back into his mouth. "Tara, your bloody girlfriend, pet. You two were all lovey-dovey for practically three years. Right after your nancy-boy werewolf left you."

"I'm not gay….I've got a boyfriend……And Oz…..Oz would _never_….." Willow whispered softly. It wasn't the fact that she was homosexual in the future that scared her. Hell, after that whole alternate dimension vampire Willow came, Willow had been taken aback, although quite intrigued, by her double's bisexual tendencies. It was that the thought of Oz leaving her terrified her. She didn't want to be alone. She was alone for too long. First she had sixteen years of unrequited feelings for Xander and parents who didn't care what she did as long as she got good grades and went to the synagogue on the Sabbath. No matter what she did, no one was there for her. Sure, Jesse and Xander were great, but they treated her like one of the guys, definitely not like a potential girlfriend or even a girl half the time.

Then after finally getting Oz, a guy who loved her, loved her more than anything, she felt wanted and it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. And he was going to be taken away. He was going to leave her, shatter her heart into a billion pieces. She didn't look back up at Spike. She couldn't without crying. All she could do was shake her head slowly, trying to absorb the pain she felt.

Buffy crossed her arms. "While that helps a ton, Spike, we need a way back."

"No, we don't. We need to kill the stupid demon that's on the loose," Dawn said, holding her sword up precariously near Spike's neck. "You may be from the past, but you're still the Slayer. We've got a duty to protect the world from this demon."

"I don't need a partner. I can take care of whatever this demon is by myself." Buffy grabbed the sword from the girl. She was not risking any more lives. She wasn't risking her life, dropping her barriers, for another Slayer.

"Don't think so, Buffy. You could try, but I know a lot more about it than you do. We need to do this together." She turned to the opening door, revealing Giles. "Right, Giles?"

"What?" He looked at her, a bit preoccupied. "Buffy, I've found some very disconcerting information on the demon. It appears that its name is Kaltnec. He is a quite powerful demon. When the first Slayer led the revolt against the demons, he was trapped in an alternate dimension. He is probably here for revenge against the Slayer, who is, quite bluntly, you. What we need to do is—is your hair a bit different than before?" Giles looked at her.

"This is somewhere between her natural-is-not-excessively-bleached hair phase and her wavy-hair-gone-mad phase." Dawn explained. "Giles, meet, past Buffy."

"P-Past Buffy?" He blinked, examining the girl. Same stance, same figure, same cheekbones, and the same awful taste in shoes. And yet, there was something in her eyes. A passionate fire, barely diluted by pain overcome. Whenever he had looked into her eyes before, all he had seen was pain, the tears unshed and conquered only with brute force, bringing almost indifference.

He stepped closer to her, still in disbelief. Not even taking his eyes off her, he asked, "What's going on?"

"The world's about to end."

"Mom?" Buffy burst into tears. She ran over to her mother, hugging her desperately. "Mom, I've missed you so much."

Joyce hugged her daughter back hesitantly, looking at Willow and Xander with a questioning glance. "It's good to see you too, Buffy," she said slowly. "I was only at the gallery for a few hours. If you want, we could all go out for lunch at McDonald's or something. Willow and Xander, you're both welcome to join us."

Buffy sniffed, finally pulling away from the forgotten comfort of her mother's embrace. "That's okay, mom. Giles is coming over for some Slayer stuff." She looked out the window, seeing Giles. "Speak of the devil," she murmured, opening the door.

Giles came in, three very large volumes in tow. He panted a bit under their enormous weight, trying to sound as friendly as he could with a "Hello, Joyce."

Buffy took the books from him and he exhaled in relief, regaining proper posture. Joyce smiled. "Hello, Rupert. We were just talking about lunch. Do you think you could spare Buffy and the gang for some hamburgers? You can join us if you want to."

"As nice as that sounds, I'm afraid this is very important." Giles went to sit on the couch and flipped the volumes to the correct pages.

"Order Mr. I-Have-To-Work-The-Slayer-To-Death a pepperoni pizza," Buffy said to her mother.

"Ooh! And can you add green peppers and pineapple to one side?" Xander asked. "It really livens up your pizza."

Joyce gave him a strange look, but smiled. "Sure. Is Domino's good for everyone?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Ms. Summers," Willow said.

"You're welcome. I'll go order it now." Joyce left to use the phone in the kitchen.

After a long silence, Giles finally decided to speak up. "As far as I can tell, the Glatz spell Willow performed is binding. It's impossible to break." Giles took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes.

"Did you know that when you performed the spell?" Buffy asked Willow softly, holding in her frustration.

"Well, yeah, but I was planning not to come back, or at least not until I had lived until then and changed everything." Willow sharply inhaled, looking at them gravely. "But there is a loophole in the spell. I made sure to research the spell completely before I did it to avoid messy side effects." She broke eye contact, concentrating on her hands folded neatly in her lap. "I've got to die."


	6. Sacrifices

**Chapter Six: Sacrifices**

"No. I don't care if the world goes to hell, you are not dying, Willow." Xander stood up, shaking his head.

Willow braced herself, her body stiffening at her friend's obvious distaste. "I have to."

"The hell you do." Xander glared at her. "We've been through worse. I mean, we've beaten the Master, Buffy's psychotic vampire boyfriend, the Mayor, Adam, Glory…We can get through this."

Giles looked up. "Adam? Glory?"

"Oh, right. Future. Hasn't happened yet." Xander paused, letting the silence overtake him. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what he could say to convince Willow that she didn't need to die. That she couldn't die. That he needed her too much for her to die.

Buffy took a deep breath. " Willow, I know you're still on edge about the whole going bad thing, but listen to Xander. We will find another way. You are not going to die."

"You don't understand," Willow spat out, standing up. "For the past month I have been suffering, been treated like a stranger while all this guilt has built up. I am not the bitch you're making me out to be! I deserve this! I WANT this! And I don't give a damn what you think right now, Buffy. You're worried about Dawn." She snapped her fingers, a gun appearing in her hand. She looked at the dark glint of the black finish, the glossy emptiness of it, and then looked distantly at her friends. "The moment I die, everything will be back to normal. Dawn will be alright; both of you will be alright. You won't remember this, or me." She raised the gun.

It was funny how not much had changed in all those years. Well, except for suddenly getting a sister, but she was getting used to that. Spike was still that homicidal manic, Giles was still watching over her, Anya was still-well, Anya, and the house still looked like her mom cleaned it, every Saturday morning at eight 'o clock. Except for the absence of Oz, and, she mentally added, Angel and Cordelia, the whole gang was back together. With the addition of Spike, of course. How or why he was in Sunnydale was a mystery, like always. And, like always, the world was ending. "So, how do we prevent this ending-the-world-apocalypse-demon thing?"

Giles still looked at her. "What's going on?" he repeated slowly.

"Giles, we really need to get back on topic. All you really need to know is that this is Buffy, Xander, and Willow from three years ago and that right now, they're going to help us destroy Kaltec," Dawn said. "And trust me, we need all the help we can get."

Giles let his gaze rest on Dawn, then, looking once more at the past Buffy and letting his eyes rest on her time-traveling companions in succession, he sighed. "The books are not very clear on Kaltnec's description. Dawn, we're relying on you to tell us what we're up against."

"To put it quite simply, an ugly scaly thing from bubble world." Dawn shrugged, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder. "It's really strong, though. If I hadn't had the Slayer strength, I'm sure it would have killed me."

"W-wait. Slayer strength?"

Dawn sighed, putting down her sword and sitting down on the arm of the couch, head in hands. "I didn't mention that, did I?" she murmured softly to herself. She looked up, clearing her throat. "I'm the third Slayer, Giles. I have been for a year, although I've actually taken to slaying more recently."

The British watcher looked at her, shocked. "A-and you never told me?"

Buffy looked at Dawn, the pieces falling into place. Her sister was so much like her. She knew how it was to be almost an adult, but to be treated like a kid, even if you go out every night to save the world. She knew how, even if someone is your best friend, you don't tell them even your darkest secret, afraid they'll think less of you. You were strong at night, but in the daylight, you were only burned. Sometimes the Slayer was the Slayer, almost an alternate entity, and you treated that part of you as such. It took more courage to say, "I am the Slayer," than to actually _be_ the Slayer.

Buffy decided to let her sister get out of the typical, although mostly comforting, Giles lecturing. "It's just Slayer stuff, Giles. We all go through it." And with that, she hugged her sister, the sister she'd known for just hours, and realized they really _were_ sisters.

"While this is all bloody well and good, can we get back to this whole 'ending-the-world' demon?" Spike smoked his cigarette, his lips curling around it in an annoyed, yet completely seductive smile. "Because after this, I've got some partying to do. Met this accounting chick with the longest neck since that African gal I drank a hundred years ago."

"Can we stake him? 'Cause if Buffy doesn't, I sure as hell am going to," Xander said, eyeing Buffy's weapons chest.

"Yeah, why isn't he dead again?" Buffy asked, grabbing a rope and twisting it around the vampire's hands and tying him to the chair.

"Because I'm just so damn cute, pet," Spike smirked. The pissed-off Slayer pulled tighter, and he winced. "Not so rough, luv. Save it for the bedroom."

"That's it. Someone hand me a stake," Buffy said before being blown across the room. Glass flew, a large shard ripping a deep slash against her temple. Her right arm smashed under her, cracking at an awkward angle. Pain shot through her body, her arm numb as a hazy red glow covered her eyes. She coughed, barely managing to sit up. Everyone was on the floor, even Spike, whose chair had tipped over. Willow, Xander, and Giles were unconscious, the three of them flung hard against the wall. Anya had disappeared, and Spike was yelling to be let free. Like she would do that even if she could.

She tasted blood, and realized her lip was bleeding. Breathing deeply, she staggered to a standing pose, grabbing the wall with her good hand. Her eyes slowly lifted up to see their attacker, the blood still coloring her vision. He was scaly, monstrous. The lips—could they be called lips? She wasn't even sure it was its mouth—smiled cruelly, parting slowly, sadistically as he let out a raspy whisper that rumbled the ground. "So you're the Slayer," he growled. Only he wasn't looking at Buffy. He grabbed Dawn by the throat, squeezing her neck so tight the frantic teen's body began to faintly turn purple. The brunette Slayer grabbed at Kaltnec's firm grasp, trying to yank herself free at no avail. "I may have missed killing you before, but that is only because I thought she might still be here, the first of your kind. She may be dead, but at least I can kill her protégée."

"No!" Xander ran up to her, grabbing the gun, struggling against her for control of it. Buffy looked at them, then kicked the gun out of their hands.

Willow looked at her furiously, her eyes darkening. "I warned you. This is for the best." She waved her hand, and Buffy lost her ability to move, as well as Giles and Xander. She flicked her wrist, pulling the fallen gun into her hand.

" Willow, you're not thinking straight. You just told us the spell went wrong. How do you know because of that the loophole will even work? You may just be killing yourself for no greater purpose than causing your friends pain!" Buffy almost started crying, but held her passionate resolve.

Xander looked at Willow, who ignored Buffy, and continued to examine the gun, as though deciding the fastest way to kill herself. "Wills, please. Don't do this. We love you, and we don't want you to die. We need you too much."

Her eyes flickered in Xander's direction, but then she went back to contemplating the gun, finally raising it level to her heart. Just like Tara, a bullet through the heart. "Goodbye," she whispered. _Tara__, I'm coming._

Buffy watched as Kaltnec strengthened his grip, squeezing the life out of Dawn, whose head lolled away, her Slayer strength failing. Despite her delusional weakness, Buffy ran toward the demon, thrusting a deep punch into his abdomen. Her fist sliced against the scales, causing her to wince in pain long enough for Kaltnec to throw her away like a rag doll. Her head banged against the wall, a flash of black falling over her eyes. She needed to fight….she needed to save Dawn….Buffy hazily got back up, facing Kaltnec once more.

Kaltnec studied the Slayer's face. Long brown hair was mixed with the stain of blood, her pale complexion growing bluish as he slowed down her breathing, squeezing the girl's neck tighter. He watched with glee as her face screwed up in pain, her mouth open, trying to take in more oxygen as her eyes grew larger with a glassy fear. "You are going to die," he said, gripping tighter, watching the remaining life in the girl disappear, "painfully"—he twisted her arm back with his free hand until Dawn gave a meek cry of pain, and then he snapped it, the bone giving a loud crack— "and so will your whole world. I will avenge Ja'hilk's death. I will wreak hell on Earth."

Buffy tackled him, but he was too strong, and she was too weak. He pressed his foot against her chest, breaking her attack. _Come on, Buffy_, she begged herself_, get up, you've dealt with worse_. But her body, too exhausted and broken, refused to move.

This was it. She'd failed. The world was in need, and she'd failed it. Another would be called in her place. And maybe she wouldn't screw up like she had. Maybe that girl could take on the demon. The darkness was edging on her consciousness, and somehow, she welcomed it. No more Parker, no more secret identities, no more pain. _Bring on the night._

"Buffy, what's with all the screaming? I could barely order the—" Joyce Summers stared in shock as Willow's index finger pressed firmly against the trigger. Bracing herself, she tackled Willow as the shot rang out. Blood pooled beneath the two women, and, the event breaking Willow's concentration, let Buffy, Xander, and Giles out of their freeze-frame.

"Not again. Not again," Buffy muttered, separating her unconscious and bloody best friend from her mother's fallen body. Joyce Summers' face was pale and covered in blood, a gash slicing across her hairline. "No mom, you can't die, not again."

"Buffy?" Her mother regarded her daughter loosely, half-aware of what she was saying. "Why is the floor so wet?" The disillusioned eyes, seen weeks before her surgery a year ago by Buffy, were seen once more. "Why is it so cold? Is it winter?"

"Mom, stay with me, please," Buffy begged, holding her mother's limp form as the woman babbled into unconsciousness. "Giles, call the ambulance."

Everything was slowing down once more, her eyes finally crying. She wasn't losing her mom again, she wasn't losing her mom again, she wasn't losing her mom again—

"Buffy, Will's not doing too good," Xander mumbled, watching the blood drain from the fallen Wicca's face. Blood spurted freely from her chest, right above her heart, drenching him. Willow wasn't conscious; her body was lax, even though Xander felt a shuddered pulse under his trembling fingers at her neck. He couldn't deal with this again. What was with guns taking out his friends? He could still see Buffy, a gory hole piercing her pale skin, and Tara, the blood soaking her blue shirt. And he was losing Willow, again. _What the hell is fate trying to play?_ he thought, ripping the bottom of Willow's shirt off and pressing it against the wound to slow the bleeding. "Hang on, Will. Hang on."

Willow opened her eyes. Whispers. Shadows. She sat up, inhaling sharply. Where was she? Clouds floated absentmindedly, a pure golden light illuminating the area. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. Whipping around, she stood in shock for a moment, and then almost felt like breaking down. " Tara. Oh my god, Tara!" Willow looked at her for a brief instant, then wrapped her arms around her, feeling Tara's comforting embrace.

" Willow. What have you done?" Tara's voice was light, pure, but upset. While it had been naturally sweet and naïve at times, her voice now resonated with a new-found wisdom and a mature ring. "You've abandoned your friends. You've brought a demon into the world, and no one can stop its vengeance. You've killed." Tara pulled away, touching Willow's cheek lightly. "Death isn't the answer. You've got so much to live for, Willow."

Willow blinked. "B-but now I'm with you again. Everything is better!" Willow's tears started flowing freely. "I love you, baby."

Tara nodded, her eyes misting. "You're not dead, Willow. Not yet. This is just a remnant of our magick bond. You can't stay here, even if you want to. You need to move on. You can fix this. You know what to do." She smiled, almost sadly, but with a genuine reassurance. "And trust me when I say there is someone out there who loves you just as much as I do."

Everything started to fade away, Tara's outline growing dim. "No, Tara, please," Willow cried out, watching her hand pass through her lover's. "Stay. I need you!"

"No, you don't." This time, Tara beamed. "You've got a great life ahead of you Willow. I want you to know that." Willow fell, crying harder, watching Tara slip away once again. Finally, she disappeared into a wind that splashed Willow in the face, enveloping her with a gentle whisper, "I love you."

Willow watched as the clouds grew red. A harsh wind blew against her, whipping her hair back. She felt a hot breath blow in her face, a thunderous anger shaking her. "You have breached the rules of time and space," a loud, irate voice bellowed in her ear.

Suddenly, the comfort of Tara's soft voice was gone; Willow only felt fear and an onslaught of guilt. Her breathing quickened and she got down on all fours, trying to gain some sort of stability. Concentrating her mind, she blasted the entity with an ear-piercing scream, knocking it back. It only annoyed The Powers That Be even more.

Her footing was lost as the clouds fell from beneath her. Her voice choked in her throat as she fell into oblivion.


	7. Help

**Chapter Seven: Help**

Spike squirmed. What the hell?! There Dawn was, being strangled, and Buffy being crushed, and he was stuck to a goddamn chair? He looked over at the unconscious Xander, Willow, and Giles. "Wake up you bloody idiots!" he cried. He struggled against the ropes, but the Slayer's knot held. _Damn_, he swore mentally.

How could this happen right after he'd gotten the chip disabled (the chip couldn't function with his soul in place because it was meant to affect demons, not a souled creature), and without fully appreciating the fact that he could stroll down the street, sucking the life out of some young thing? The trials had been worth it; not only was he given a soul, but a partial human existence: he was more human than demon, giving him the ability to walk in the sun and enter houses without permission. It was a joy to feel the blood coursing through his body; sensual as it dripped on his chin. And he'd never experience it again if this demon killed them all. He closed his eyes. He wouldn't—couldn't—watch Buffy be crushed to death. He knew she'd never care about him; he'd accepted that. But sleeping with a woman for a year and caring about her for two was bound to produce a deep enough reaction to not want to see her mutilated and killed. Well, as long as he wasn't doing the killing.

He heard a sudden smash, then a roar from the demon and thud next to him. He opened his eyes. Dawn was lying next to him, unconscious. Kaltnec was distracted by something, fighting someone Spike couldn't see. Kaltnec staggered slightly, but stood tall, a proud smirk plastered onto his demonic features.

"Ah, a battle I see." Kaltnec turned, releasing Buffy from under his foot. The blonde Slayer gasped, gripping her stomach in pain. "Finally, worthy opponents."

Spike couldn't see who Kaltnec was fighting, only that they were putting up a reasonably good fight. At least until both were slammed against the wall, their human strength giving out. Kaltnec grinned, ready to give both a death blow when he stopped suddenly. Spike turned, seeing Giles standing, his hand out, murmuring an incantation. Kaltnec twitched, breaking free of the restraint quickly. The demon went after Giles, its teeth bared. Giles kept chanting, but it no longer worked. He was whipped across the room, blood falling from a large cut on his head.

Kaltnec was going to win, Spike realized incredulously. The slayerettes had never lost, and here they were, failing. That meant _he_ was going to die. That would never happen. Spike was the Big Bad. He could whip that demon's ass back to whatever dimension he'd come from. He vamped out.

Buffy paced outside her mother's room. She couldn't believe it. She was losing her mother again, this time because her best friend shot her. Buffy couldn't stop crying. What was happening, why?

Giles stood next to her, watching her pace. "Buffy, she's going to be alright."

"No, Giles. She's not going to be alright. 'Cause if this doesn't kill her, the tumor will. And just because I can't change the damn future means that I can't save my mom." She choked, not able to move. "I can't do anything, Giles. I'm useless. Mom's gonna die, and Dawn's in the future being killed by some demon and I-I—"

Giles looked at her, then enveloped her in a hug, hushing away her tears. He didn't know what she was talking about; he didn't try. He just held Buffy, waiting for her to stop crying. Her sobs slowly turned into sniffles, and then Giles let her go so he could look her in the eyes. "Buffy, you're a strong person. And I don't mean your Slayer strength. You are a wonderfully independent woman. And I know that in these three years that you've gone through, you've just grown and matured beyond any expectations I'd ever set. Your mother is just as strong, Buffy. And if you have a sister, I have no doubt that she is equally as strong."

She smiled sadly, hugging him again. "Thanks Giles. Thank you for being here for me. I appreciate it. Probably a lot more than you realize."

Giles pondered her words carefully. The future was so different, so strange. Willow becoming a suicidal Wicca; Buffy getting a sister; it confused him deeply. All he knew was that Buffy had faced serious pain in those years and that she prevailed like always. He smoothed her hair, and then pulled back, touching her shoulder lightly. "Do you need anything? A drink maybe?"

Buffy nodded. "Sure. You think they have a diet Coke?"

"Most likely. And if they don't, I'd be rather taken with giving them a lecture on how much money can be gained by such a process of joint—"

"Giles?"

"Yes?"

"Just get me the damn coke."

He smiled at her light sarcasm, then left to find the vending machine.

Buffy watched him go. Maybe she was just a little on edge, but with her current string of losing everyone she cared about, she was desperately afraid Giles would suddenly poof away again. That only made her angry as she thought on how she might lose another year with her mother because her best friend went psycho. She lifted a fist to punch the wall, furious.

"Buffy?"

Buffy froze. She knew that voice, but hadn't heard it in months. She turned and looked at him in shock. Without even thinking, she reached out, hugging him desperately. "Riley."

He looked at her strangely, but hugged her back. "I was just down the hall. My friend Forrest broke his wrist. What are you doing here?"

Buffy looked at him, drinking in the moment: his gentle eyes, his warm embrace, everything. While she was over him, realizing that he was happy with Sam, it still was so comfortable and wonderful to see him, to hug him, again. But her thoughts soon dawned on her mother and her condition. "M-my mom. She was shot."

Riley's eyes widened, and he pulled her back into a strong embrace. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. Is there anything I can do?"

She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. Sure, he could help. Stay with her, never leave her to the throws of Spike's lust, to the pain of life without her mother and without him. Stay with her, love her, never become that jerk with some vampire whore sucking him so he could get some erotic pleasure. She knew that she couldn't tell him that, affecting the future and all, but she wanted to. She knew why Riley left, understood why. She could never love him as much as she loved Angel and Riley knew that. Too many barriers, not enough love. The story of her life.

She sighed, shaking her head. "No. I'm just waiting for the doctors to give me some sign. I don't know if she's going to live and it's tearing me up inside." She started crying again. Riley looked at her, hugging her closer, his hand brushing her hair from her face lightly.

"Buff!"

Buffy turned, seeing Xander. He looked at her and Riley questioningly, but moved on quickly. " Willow's awake. And she wants to see you."

Spike grabbed Dawn's dropped sword, cutting himself free. He licked his sharp teeth, relishing this moment before the kill with an animal pleasure. Grabbing Kaltnec, he knocked him down, away from Giles who sat up uncomfortably, chanting once again.

The two people who had arrived without warning also got up. Spike finally got a good look at them. The first was a tall man, his brown skin firm over toned muscle. The second was a slightly shorter woman, meek at first sight, but with a fire in her brown eyes. Her long, brown hair was swept up into a high ponytail. While the man held a sword, she raised her crossbow. He attacked, but was easily deflected, hitting his head on the frame of the broken window. "Charles!" the woman cried, looking from the man to the demon, then raised her crossbow, loaded it and fired. Kaltnec winced, but would not let his attention stray from the chanting Giles. She fumbled with the arrows again, loading clumsily. The arrow fell and she swore.

"Amateurs," he said under his breath, ripping open Buffy's weapon chest and pulling out an axe. Charging at Kaltnec, he nimbly avoided any defense and cut through the scaly skin, bringing up ruby blood. The snarl on his lips widened into a sadistic grin as he dug the axe deeper.

Kaltnec stopped his movement towards Giles and focused on Spike. "Vampire," he realized nonchalantly, slowly winding up his arm and hitting Spike square in the stomach, sending him across the room. Kaltnec grabbed the axe from his side and threw it to the ground. His wound closed up within seconds, the fallen blood the only reminder of the cut. "Amateurs."

Xander and Buffy stood at the doorway, looking at Willow, who sat upright on the hospital bed. Buffy wanted to ask how she was; it was her best friend, and Buffy did care. But above that knowledge lay the pain of seeing her mother lying bloody on the ground, shot by a gun in Willow's hand. She didn't speak.

Willow did. "Buff, I'm sorry for what I've done. I—"

"You said that. You said that right before you shot my mother." Buffy sighed, dropping her arms from the crossed position in front of her. "I'm damn sick and tired of your apologies. I've been trying to help you, Will, you know I have. But you need to move on. Tara would want you to."

"I know she would. I saw her." At their shocked looks, Willow clarified. "When I was unconscious, I saw her. She said….she said it was a remnant of our magick bond." Willow swallowed, tears in her eyes. "And I saw her. She held me." Her throaty voice struggled a bit and then turned serious. "I'm in trouble with the powers that be. I've messed with forces you can't imagine. I need to make it better—"

"No making it better, Willow. Making it better only made it worse." Buffy ran her hands through her own hair, closing her eyes to avoid a scream fight.

"I know," Willow whispered. "I know. I'm not ready for all this…I'm not ready to use magick, I'm not ready to be with you guys. I miss her so much and I miss what the three of us used to be. We used to be happy, guys. Do you remember that?" Willow weakly chuckled. "And now all I know is that I've unleashed some horrible demon into the present. And I have no idea how to fix all this."

Xander sat down next to Willow in her hospital bed and held her while Buffy tried to keep her disapproving look off her face. "Yeah, Will, you messed up," Xander said softly, "but what's more important now is that we figure out the best, and least painful, way to fix all this. This means you not dying."

Giles entered the room with a diet coke and handed it to Buffy, who accepted it wordlessly, her gaze still fixed on Willow.

"Is there another way to switch us back? Not using the Glatz?" Buffy's suggestion was quiet and emotionless.

The calm control of the bite in Buffy's voice reassured Willow. She had ruined so much. But Tara— Tara and Xander and Buffy….They all wanted her to get better and to fix this. They believed she could.

"I really didn't research any other methods of time travel because I knew the Glatz was the most successful," Willow admitted. "Maybe we need to hit the books."

Xander smiled and placed a kiss on the top of Willow's head. "It's just like old times. Giles, you still got that great book collection?"

Giles did a brief double-take. "Do I lose my book collection in the future?" he asked, concerned.

"No…I just…never mind."

Something in the silliness of Xander's voice reset the tone in the room. It was less hostile. There were still personal issues to work out, but getting to the present was their first priority. Willow just hoped they'd fix everything in time.


End file.
